


Among my delirious bones

by anastasiapullingteeth



Series: Oh Calamity [2]
Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Depression, M/M, POV First Person, Suicide Attempt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-24
Updated: 2014-04-24
Packaged: 2018-01-20 14:05:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 964
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1513241
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anastasiapullingteeth/pseuds/anastasiapullingteeth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In Grantaire's darkest hour, Jehan's still there.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Among my delirious bones

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by [You’ll Have To Hear “I love you”](http://demonsonthemoon.tumblr.com/post/82323507107/youll-have-to-hear-i-love-you) written by [Meeni](http://praisethejellyfishes.tumblr.com/). Title taken from _To End It All_ (Octavio Paz).

The sun is up high today. I want to close the curtains, but I know you enjoy the light streaming into the apartment because it allows you to read in the kitchen. “It’s a good day”, I say to myself while I see you pouring hot water in a mug. “It’s a good day”, you know as soon as you see me standing in the doorway. “It’s a good day”, I pretend while I kiss your forehead.

You say “I love you” and I smile nonchalantly, as if it didn’t mean anything, but your words nail down in my skin, warm as your lips near my shoulder. And I know you’re gonna hate me. You’ll get tired of me someday, the same way many others have done it, the same way I myself do it.

"Let’s go for a walk." you insist, that beautiful smile back on your lips. I haven’t seen it in a while, I wish it wasn’t my fault.

Your hand is soft between my fingers and I cling to it, squeezing slightly now and then to make sure you’re still there, next to me. We both walk in silence; you’ve run out of words, and I can’t remember how to use mine.

You laugh at one of my jokes, and I know you’re gonna hate me. I try to push you away, to save you, but I like the smell of your hair tickling my nose. And I know you’re gonna hate me. I yell at you, I close the doors and build walls between us, you’re gonna hate me.

There are kids running around the fountain. One of them passes next to you, accidentally hitting your leg and making you stumble. I surround your waist with my arm, ready to demand an apology, but you stop me silently. You like kids. You used to come to the park and feed the birds. You don’t do it anymore. I wonder why.

We stop for lunch at a tiny restaurant we haven’t visited in months. We came here once, long before we first kissed. You’d helped me with something, I can’t remember what it was, and I thanked you for it with dinner. I’m thanking you now, too. Because you’re still here. Because you haven’t gone yet. But you’re gonna hate me.

When we go back home, it’s not a good day anymore. The apartment is cold and humid and rain clouds cast a shadow above us. You offer to cuddle on the couch, kiss my cheek, and I can see you’re trying, I can see you caught the hint of sadness in my eyes and are trying to stop it, to make me forget, to make it better.

I don’t want to see you. I don’t want you to touch me, I don’t deserve the way you look at me. “I love you”, you say again and it’s too much for me to handle.

"Don’t say that!" I scream, running away from you.

"Why not?" you ask. You never ask.

"Because you’re gonna hate me." I say, before closing the door behind me.

 

~~~

I think I heard you crying the other day. You stormed into the bathroom, screaming and calling my name, and you were crying. I don’t remember why, I just can recall the bright red on the floor and the pain in my wrists. And your tears, falling heavy down your face. Why were you crying?

"I’m sorry," I whisper, so low that it’s barely audible above the constant beeping around us. "I’m sorry," I say again for good measure.

"Let me help you," you beg, stroking my jaw. "Tell me what to do, tell me what you need, let me-"

"Hate me," I say immediately, a little louder this time.

"… what?"

"I don’t want to be loved by you. Please, hate me."

I can’t look at you. You’re hurt, and what I said is wrong, so wrong. And you hate me, you’re gonna go and it’s better this way, you deserve so much better than this broken asshole. You haven’t let go of my hand, though, and the caresses on my jaw move to my scalp, slowly and lovingly.

You look tired. Your eyes are red and your hair is hold in a messed bun on the top of your head. I know you haven’t slept in days, because every time I woke up you were there, standing beside my bed, holding my hand and promising everything will be fine. But I scared you, you thought it was too late, that you…

"I thought I’d lost you," is all you say, leaning above me and kissing my eyebrow. "Sleep, love. I’ll be here when you wake up."

 

~~~

We’re back at the apartment. Breakfast is good, I missed your pancakes and that nasty green tea you insist in buying. You keep looking at my wrists, biting your lip with worry, and I pretend I don’t notice. There’s a few pills next to my glass of orange juice; you won’t let me get up until I swallow them.

"Why are you still here?" I ask suddenly.

"Because I love you."

"Why?"

"Just 'cause."

You’re patient with me. You’re afraid I stop taking the pills and try again. I hate to see that frown on you, so I try to smile, pretend nothing happened, let you rest.

It’s night already and I ask you to stay with me. I rest my head on your chest and hug your waist tightly. It’s awkward this way, both used to sleep away from the other, but you accept me, running your finger through my dark hair. And I fall asleep. I finally fall asleep.

"I love you," is the first thing you say in the morning.

"Why don’t you hate me?" I ask.

**Author's Note:**

> Meeni and I co-wrote a third part of this "verse" and you can read it [here](http://demonsonthemoon.tumblr.com/post/84451382330/say-something-im-giving-up-on-you/) if you're interested :)


End file.
